


The Beautiful Game

by sailorgreywolf



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:00:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29830830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorgreywolf/pseuds/sailorgreywolf
Summary: Russia courts a new ally against his American rival. However, he may have underestimated exactly who he is dealing with.
Relationships: Mexico/Russia (Hetalia)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	The Beautiful Game

After years of clandestine planning, Russia had finally found a possible ally close to America. There had been hints that this particular ally might soon be within reach. Mexico had broken with America and objected to Cuba’s exclusion.

Russia had heard that there had been fights, though Cuba had declined to say whether he thought the relationship was going to fall apart. He seemed to put a lot of stock in respecting Mexico’s privacy.

But, Russia could see the ripples of the discontent between them, and he intended to take full advantage of it. It was just his luck that Cuba was close enough to Mexico to arrange a meeting.

As he stood in the living room of Mexico’s home he thought about how best to convince the man to abandon America. He thought it best to show how deficient America was as a friend and a lover.

The door opened and Mexico entered. He made a show of closing and locking the door. Russia assumed that it was a kind of assurance that they were alone. Then Mexico turned to him, with a look of expectation. Mexico was handsome as always, and very well dressed.

Russia led since he had been the one to suggest the meeting, “Thank you for agreeing to this. I’ve been eager to talk to you.”

He knew that it would be best to lead with honesty and a bit of flattery. Mexico had to know how important this visit was, especially since Russia had been working for years to find an inroad with him. He was not lying when he said that he had been waiting for this meeting. 

Mexico gave him a small smile that betrayed nothing and said, “I’m sure you have. Good thing that you didn’t propose it by telegram. Those have a nasty habit of being intercepted.”

Russia wasn't sure whether he should laugh at the comment. He understood the reference, but wasn’t sure if Mexico was meaning it to be humorous. Instead he said, “I do suppose I could have called.”

He was trying to make small talk, though he was sure that America was keeping a close eye on who he called. Mexico shook his head and said, “I wouldn’t recommend that either. Alfred has my phones bugged.”

Russia seized on this detail. He had guessed at it, since America was expanding his net of spies. But, he had not been certain if America trusted Mexico enough to spy on him.

He said, “So, he doesn’t trust you?”

Mexico laughed, which caught Russia off guard. He hadn’t expected Mexico to find something so serious quite so funny. Mexico caught his breath and said, “Christ, Ivan, do I not even get a bit of foreplay before you start probing me for information about Alfred?”

Russia noted that he had moved too fast. Mexico was apparently aware of the espionage and was not going to tell Russia whether it bothered him. The rumors about Mexico said that he was reckless and emotional, so he had expected that the realizing that Alfred was suspicious would be an emotional blow. But, that seemed like it was a wrong assumption.

He said, “Forgive me. I do want to talk to you without just talking about Alfred. I think we have more in common than you think.” 

He needed to remind himself that the goal was to sway Mexico’s loyalty, not to get information about his enemy. If he was successful, then the information would come.

Mexico had the slightest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth, but it was difficult to know what it meant. He said, “We might.” Then, after a short, mysterious silence he said, “Would you play a game of chess with me? Carlos tells me that you’re very good.”

Russia was confused by the question, since it did not seem related to the politics of the moment. But, he could indulge the impulse. He was confident in his own ability to win against a reckless young man who didn’t have the foresight that chess required.

Once the game was over he could begin to test the cracks in Mexico’s relationship with America. He replied, “Very well.”

That got an encouraging smile from Mexico. In a few minutes, Mexico had set up the board and he gestured to the chair across from him and said, “Take a seat. I like a challenge.”

Russia couldn’t help but smirk. It was quite cute that Mexico thought that it might be an even game. This was a game that Russia loved dearly and could rival the masters in; he was certain that he could destroy an amateur quickly.

He said as he sat, “You know I did not come here to play games with you.”

Mexico started to pull carved wooden pieces out of a velvet bag and place them on the board. He replied as he worked, “Of course you are. You’re here to play the grandest game of all: Politics. There is no bigger game than that.”

There were light clunks as Mexico placed the pieces on the board. Russia was pleasantly surprising with the wit. He had never heard anyone but Cuba say that Mexico was so sharp.

He glanced down at the board, and remarked, “You’re giving me white?”

It was a strange move, like Mexico wanted to handicap himself. A smarter man would have given himself the advantage of going first. Mexico said, not looking at all perturbed, “Of course. You are my guest and I do want a challenge.”

Russia could not fault the confidence, even if it seemed like it could almost be arrogance. Or perhaps he was just underestimating his opponent. Either way, Russia was happy to start the game by moving out his first pawn.

As Mexico moved, Russia asked, “So what will you tell Alfred if he finds out that I was here?” The other looked up only once he was done moving his pawn, and replied, "I will tell him that we played a game of chess and that was it.”

With what they were doing, that would not technically be a lie. Russia was impressed by the forethought. But he was certain that America would not take the answer lightly.

He asked, moving his knight out to open up the board, “And if he does not accept that answer?”

He wanted to know what was at stake, and what would happen if America turned on his Southern neighbor. But Mexico responded with a quickly glance, “I do not make my decisions based on what Alfred will accept.”

He stated it as plainly as one might remark about the weather, and Russia found himself frustrated that he could not sense bitterness in the words. He wanted something to work with.

The play continued on the board as he responded, “I have seen that. You voted in favor of Cuba. No one else dared to defy Alfred’s wishes.”

Mexico took his knight with a bishop and said, “I have done more for Carlos than that, as I am sure he has already told you.”

In truth, he had already heard some of the stories from Cuba. They were intriguing. Mexico hiding Castro right under the nose of the man who wanted to keep Cuba in thrall. Cuba said that his friend had also orchestrated meetings between Cuba and the communist exiles.

It was a strange thing for a man to do when he was supposedly so loyal to America. It was one of the many stories that gave him reason to believe that Mexico could be influenced.

He replied, “I know that you hosted Castro when he was in exile. I ask myself why you would do that if you weren’t sympathetic to our cause.”

He made his move. He was not paying close attention to the game, because he was certain that Mexico would not hand him anything that he could not deal with.

Instead of making his move, Mexico stood up and walked over to a sideboard where he poured himself a glass of ice water. As he had his back to Russia, he said, “There is a simple explanation.” He turned back and said, “Carlos is my friend, and I wanted to help him.”

He returned to his seat and contemplated the pieces while sipping water. Russia pushed him, because he felt like the answer had been a dodge, “Are you denying that you have sympathy for Socialism?”

He was certain that Mexico had some ideological convictions that he was refusing to voice. Though he had been embroiled in his own conflict, he had heard rumors that Mexico had been with Zapata and Villa during the Revolution. Cuba had refused to tell him anything about it, and he valued him enough as an ally not to push him for information.

Mexico made his move and then said, “Sympathy is a strange word. I feel sympathy for many things."

Russia took a hard look at the board for the first time. He was surprised to realize that Mexico was pressing an exceptionally solid and aggressive attack. He should not have let it get to this point, because it would take a tight defense to push back.

As he stared at the board, Mexico said, “Can I ask you a question?”

Russia moved one of his rooks into a stronger position to protect his king. He answered, still focused on the game, “Go ahead.”

Mexico moved his queen decisively into a position that could quickly evolve into check, and said, “Do you know how hard it is to find an ice axe in this city?”

Russia’s hand paused over his piece as he understood the question. This was about Trotsky and Stalin’s obsessive quest to destroy him. A quest that had culminated in a murder.

He looked up at Mexico. He couldn’t help but appreciate the build up to this moment. As he looked, he saw a man very different from the rumors. He looked calm and certain of himself, and very aware of what he had just said.

For the first time Russia felt like he understood what Cuba had been telling him. As he looked, he saw a man who was brilliant and looking at him over a winning game of chess.

This was no foolish young man that he was facing. This was a bishop, not a pawn.

The handsome face was set in the most impassive expression, but his eyes hinted at a feeling of triumph. Mexico seemed to see that he understood and added, “Alfred’s conduct may have given you the false sense that I do not value my sovereignty. But I assure you, I do.”

Russia could not believe that Mexico had really valued the life of a single Soviet exile that highly. But, he took the point. It had been an overstep, but one born out of the singular obsession of one man.

He finally replied, “Stalin is dead.” Mexico countered quickly, “And so is Trotsky. One was more natural than the other.”

Russia remembered that it was his turn and moved his king out of a vulnerable position.

Mexico spoke while he was moving, “Make no mistake. I had no attachment to the man. Giving him asylum was a favor to Frida as a friend. But he was my guest and he was under my protection.”

Russia had not agreed to the assassination, but it was not his choice. He focused on a different detail, and said, “Frida Kahlo? Were you friends with her and Diego Rivera?"

He knew those names because they were communists. Mexico seemed to be friends with a suspicious number of communists.

He looked down on the board and saw that Mexico had finally made a mistake. He had left an opening in his defense. It was the kind of glaring error that an experienced player would have seen.

Mexico replied, dodging any political implications, “Yes. I thought you saw the mural on the way in. That’s Diego’s work.”

Russia had, and he had been tempted to pause and admire the work. It was beautifully done. He moved decisively to take advantage of the opening.

He nodded, and then returned to the subject of Trotsky, “I promise you that I do not use Stalin’s methods anymore.”

Mexico took a sip of water and contemplated the game. Then he answered, “I would hope so. But how do I know that your promises are any more sincere than Alfred’s?”

Russia could see that he had a path to winning the game, and he made use of it. If nothing else he had to defend his reputation as a chess player.

He decided it was time to use the weapon he would sure have an impact. He said, “You misunderstand my intentions. I want to free the world from imperialist oppression.”

Russia removed his scarf and rubbed his neck to draw Mexico’s attention to the scars. He added, “I think you know that some scars never fade.”

For the first time in the conversation he saw real uncertainty pass over Mexico’s face. He hoped that Mexico remembered the deep scars that America had left. From the look on the other’s face he guessed that his point had made an impact as he hoped that it would.

But, Mexico did not answer until he looked at the board. Then he said, “Ah, a nasty fork. I concede.”

He knocked over his king, and looked back up at the other man. Russia was glad to have at least won, since the game had been harder fought that he expected.

He said, capitalizing on the moment, “If you were betting on a game, you would put money on the better player.”

He knew his meaning was clear. On the world stage, as on the chess board, he was much stronger than America.

Mexico took a long drink of water before saying, “You assume that I have to gamble at all. I think that I can give my money to my friends when they need it. I do not need to do more than that.”

Russia understood, though this protestation of neutrality frustrated him. He wanted to push Mexico to choose a side because his own ideals seemed to align so strongly with communism.

However, he knew that it would be a tactical error to do so. Mexico had shown himself to be clever and calculating. It would take a much more developed strategy to convince him that neutrality was not the way. Russia conceded for the moment.

He extended his hand and said, “Thank you for the game and the conversation.” Mexico took it in his own firm grip and said, “Thank you for the challenge. If you want to play again, do get in contact. You know how to reach me.”


End file.
